


I Am Yours & You Are Mine

by wisteriawrites



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Courtesans, Fae & Fairies, Fae Choi San, Fae Kang Yeosang, Falling In Love, Human Jung Wooyoung, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Racism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:00:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29975661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisteriawrites/pseuds/wisteriawrites
Summary: Jung Wooyoung lives his life as a sheltered prince, completely unaware of what goes on in the city spread out below him. On the night he decides to sneak out, he happens to bump into a young courtesan, and he begins to question everything he's been taught the past two decades.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

To any man in his right mind, exploration is key to life. Exploration gives a purpose to continue on in difficult times, a reason to stay curious, and a drive to discover.

Exploration and curiosity go hand in hand. 

Exploration and curiosity are how Jung Wooyoung now found himself wandering the streets of the capital city, busy even now, in the dead of night. As the crown prince of Jinju, Wooyoung has always been required to stay safe. Always protected, always with a guard or a servant. He’s never been allowed to just wander. He knows nothing about his people, nothing about their needs or the condition of the capital that surrounds the castle. 

The city had Wooyoung captivated. The emerald roofs paired with the ivory walls gave it an aura he couldn’t begin to describe. People in clothing of all colors bustled past him, some of the women occasionally throwing him a wink or a light titter of a laugh. The minimal attention he was getting was enough to have him pulling his hood up a bit higher, the fear of being discovered in the back of his mind.

Until he found the gate leading to the lower town. His captivation vanished immediately. The ivory buildings disappeared, the emerald roofs faded away, replaced by muddy browns. The paved street turned to a barely maintained dirt path. There was no laughter beyond the gate. It was the opposite of what Wooyoung had been looking at, but it was exactly what he had been looking for, and he crossed the threshold of the gate into the lower town. 

As he was observing a baked goods stand (Wooyoung had never smelled anything so addicting in his life, not even anything made by the castle cooks could compare), a door was suddenly slammed open. A young man was pushed out, shortly followed by an older man. The young man stumbled to the ground, but before he was able to get up the older one delivered a kick to his shoulder blade, disabling him long enough to allow a foot to be pressed into the small of his back. Wooyoung stared in shock as the older man began yelling loud enough to disturb almost everyone on the street, “You think you can charge me extra, you little bitch?!”

The young man on the ground began to open his mouth to answer, but the foot on his back came down a second time, even harder. “You do what I want you to for the price we agreed on!” Wooyoung watched as the old man spat on the other, then brought his attention to the people around them. Nobody seemed bothered anymore, not paying any mind to the man on the ground, obviously in pain. They all acted as if this was a daily occurrence. He hesitantly took a step towards the scene. “Excuse me?” Wooyoung’s voice was small, uncertain. The old man turned his head, his attention brought elsewhere long enough for the young man under him to escape from under the foot. 

“What do you want?” The man spoke gruffly, presumably from the strain he’d put on his voice mere moments before. 

Wooyoung took a moment to glance at the young man, still on the ground but sat up now, and that was when he realized this man is Fae. He had only ever met one other Fae, his servant, and he had thought that would be the most beautiful man he would ever lay his eyes on. But this man he was looking at right now was absolutely stunning. Gleaming blonde hair paired with blue grey eyes that were almost silver in the moonlight, fox like features and high cheekbones. The telling features of his Fae heritage made him all the more ethereal, the delicately pointed ears and cute little fangs. 

Taking his gaze away from this beautiful man and back to the one he was speaking to, Wooyoung found a new confidence. “I couldn't help but notice you hurting this man. I wanted to know what he’s done to deserve it.” The old man seemed a bit shocked at the prying, but he was doing a decent job of hiding it. “The little whore is trying to charge me extra.” Wooyoung took a moment to realize what the words meant. The Fae male was a courtesan. The fact didn’t deter him, though. It only made him more determined. “So? Wouldn’t you after having to sleep with someone such as yourself?”

Wooyoung heard the Fae male suppress a laugh from the ground, the sound only seeming to anger the old man further. “Who the hell do you think you are, kid? The king?” Wooyoung had to hide his own laugh. The irony of that question. 

“No. I’m just a person.”

“Then mind your own business and go bother someone else.”

Wooyoung simply shrugged and held out his hand to the Fae male, who gladly took it. The old man seemed to have other ideas for the courtesan, though, as he was grabbing Wooyoung’s wrist. “Are you deaf now? I said piss off.” The prince tugged his arm out of the grip, sending the man a look of disgust. “I will once you pay this man what you owe him.”

The old man seemed to consider that for a moment, looking around at the small crowd that had gathered and brought their attention back to the situation, before pulling a few gold coins from his pocket and shoving them into the Fae male’s waiting hands. He grabbed the beauty’s face, pulling him close enough to growl into his ear, “Take your money and go with your little boyfriend. You aren’t even a decent fuck anyways.”

The man turned and left, but it seemed the Fae male wanted the last word. 

“I’m the best fuck you’ll ever have, creep!” 

The insult brought a smile to Wooyoung’s face, and the courtesan seemed satisfied now as he turned to him, a smile of his own bringing out the cutest dimples Wooyoung had ever seen. “Thank you,” the male said, appreciation lacing his tone. 

“You’re welcome.” Wooyoung turned to leave, but a gentle hand on his shoulder stopped him. He was met with that smile once again, those pale eyes warm. “Walk with me?”

And who was Wooyoung to say no to a little more exploration? He let the male lead him around, as he obviously knew the streets better than he did. They walked in silence for a while, occasionally pausing to look at some fruit or bread. Eventually the male spoke up. 

“You aren’t from around here.” 

“How did you know?”

“Your clothes,” he mused. Wooyoung looked down at himself, at the clothing he had deemed simple on his own, then to the male walking beside him. He stuck out like a sore thumb. 

“Good eye.” 

“So that means you’re either from uptown or the castle.” He had to admit the male was very observant. 

“Does it matter where I’m from?”

He shrugged. “Guess not.” 

Wooyoung took in his surroundings. He spotted a hanging sign on a building just in front of them indicating that it was a tavern. “Are you hungry?”

“A bit.”

“Why don’t we stop here to eat, then?” he asked, pointing at the tavern. His eyes followed Wooyoung’s finger. 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” he began to protest. 

“I don’t mind. Really.” 

After a moment's hesitation, and a very loud grumble from his stomach, the male nodded his agreement. “Okay.” He led the way into the tavern and they took a seat across from each other. A woman came to take their orders, and not knowing what to say, Wooyoung just ordered the same thing his dining partner did. 

Once the waitress left them on their own, the male turned to him. “So, what brings you down here?”

“I was exploring.”

“Exploring?” He raised a brow.

“I’ve never been to this part of the city,” Wooyoung explained.

The male raised the glass of water that had been placed on their table to his lips. “Most of you haven’t.”

“I don’t really get much of a choice.”

“So the castle, then,” the male noted. “You must be pretty important.”

“What makes you say that?” 

“Well, you’re from the castle. But your hands aren’t calloused like they would be if you were a servant, so you’re important somehow.” 

Wooyoung brought his hands from where they’d been resting on the table and into his lap. The waitress returned with their meals. The spices practically had his mouth watering and he had to restrain himself from shovelling it into his mouth and then moaning around his fork. The male wasn’t as enthusiastic with his meal, seeming more interested in analyzing him.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked right back. The male raised a brow at him, signaling the reason should be obvious. “I believe everyone should be treated equally, regardless of race.”

“That’s not usually how it works, is it?” Wooyoung shook his head, picking at his potatoes. It was a moment before either of them spoke again.

“What’s your name, anyway?”

“Wooyoung.” 

The male raised a brow, but it wasn’t the same as before. It filled Wooyoung with dread, though he didn’t know why. “Wooyoung?” 

“Yes,” he said, uncertain. “Wooyoung.” 

“Are you trying to tell me you’re the prince?” 

And then he realized his mistake. He tried to back track as quickly as possible. “No-” 

“I’m not stupid.” The male sounded agitated now, his fork left abandoned on his plate and his arms folded across his chest. 

“I’m sorry,” Wooyoung tried, thinking maybe he was upset at being lied to.

“So, what? You decided you wanted to come down here, have dinner with some poor soul, see how pitiful we are, then go home feeling great about yourself for doing something nice?” 

“I wouldn’t put it that way.”

“How would you put it then, your highness?” Suddenly his title sounded like a jab and he hated it more than anything else in the moment. 

“I just wanted to see how life is in other parts of the city. Someday I want to be the best king for everyone here. I want to help-”

“I think this is beyond help. It was beyond help when your father decided he wanted to slaughter my entire race.”

Wooyoung was at a loss for words for a long, drawn out second. “You can’t possibly think I’m like my father,” he said. 

The male gave him a look as if saying, “Sure I can”. He stood up from his spot, pulled out the few coins he’d gotten from the old man earlier, and dropped them on the table before leaving the tavern entirely. He watched his back disappear, and belatedly realized he hadn’t even learned his name.

⤟☾☽⤠

“Your highness?”

Wooyoung groaned, rolling over and away from the offending hand shaking his shoulder. 

“It’s time to get up.”

“I don’t want to,” he mumbled into the blanket pulled up over his mouth. Footsteps retreated across the room and suddenly blinding light made his eyes burn, even from behind his eyelids. 

“Get up.”

Wooyoung sighed and the footsteps returned to the side of his bed. “Wooyoung.” He opened his eyes, and was met with sunshine along with his servant. “Up,” Yeosang prompted, and he finally sat up. 

“Why are you being so stubborn today?” 

“I’m tired,” he said, yawning. 

“Don’t make my job harder than it already is.”

“Sorry.” And he really was. 

Yeosang was the only other Fae Wooyoung had ever met. He had light golden blond hair paired with warm brown eyes and pale skin. A birthmark graced his left eye and part of his temple, though it often got covered by light powder cosmetics. Yeosang was honestly one of the most incredible people Wooyoung had ever met, not only in looks but also his resolve. 

The first time they had met was in the labor camp in the north of the kingdom. Wooyoung had heard rumors of a young man who had survived there for almost an entire decade when most of the slaves didn't last more than six months. He decided he wanted to see the boy himself and had ended up bringing him back home with him as his personal servant. As much as he had wished he could take every slave in the camp, taking one was already enough to get him in trouble with his father. 

The first time Wooyoung had seen Yeosang’s back he had cried. It was completely ravaged, the skin mere slivers, most hanging on by just a few threads. Infection had set into most wounds due to salt from the mines often being rubbed into them by guards. Yeosang had told him that while most other slaves had received similar treatment, he had been the worst case. Whether it had been his Fae heritage or his own back talk and attitude, Wooyoung didn’t know. Probably a combination of both. 

Somehow, Yeosang had made a full recovery, though he’ll bear the scars for life. Wooyoung had grown attached to him and they had become close friends. Even now, here in the castle, Yeosang was a force to be reckoned with. Wooyoung has seen him scare even the most battle hardened soldiers with a single look a fair share of times. It never failed to make him laugh, especially on his worst days. 

Yeosang was a good servant. He knew how to deal with Wooyoung when none of the others were able to. He watched as he busied himself with plucking clothes out for him to wear for the day. He laid the shirt and pants out on the bed. “So, what did you think?”

Wooyoung had almost forgotten that Yeosang knew he snuck out. “It was awful. The lower town is awful,” he said honestly.

“It’s definitely seen better days.” 

“Has it? Ever?” 

“It’s been a long time, but yes. It used to be really hard to tell the difference between the two areas.” Yeosang sat down at the end of the bed. 

“That’s too bad.”

“It is. But that’s what happens when funding stops going out and taxes increase so much.” Wooyoung pulled the blanket off himself and stood up to get dressed. He caught sight of Yeosang plucking a book from his bedside table. “You were gone for a long time.”

“I ate at a tavern.”

“I bet that was fun,” Yeosang only sounded mildly interested now. 

“It was. Until I gave myself away.”

The book slammed shut. “You didn’t.” He turned to look at his servant, the laces on his pants half tied, and nodded pitifully. “Are you trying to get caught?”

“I didn’t mean to. It just slipped out,” he defended.

Yeosang sighed. “So who’d you give yourself away to?”

“I don’t know,” he continued tying his laces, his mind now conjuring an idea. “I didn’t ask. But he was Fae.”

“So that probably didn’t end too well.” 

“Not at all.” Wooyoung checked himself in the mirror. His clothes were even more simplified than the night before, giving him more confidence he’ll blend in in the lower town easier. He used his fingers to smooth down his bedhead. 

“You’re planning on going to bother him again.”

“I am. I need to know his name.”

“I don’t think you need to. You just want to.” He looked at Yeosang through the mirror before turning around. He had a look fixed on him, but it was one he’d managed to learn to ignore. 

“Maybe both,” he said. He sat down to pull his boots on. 

“Okay. Fine. I’ll cover for you again.” Wooyoung looked up and smiled at his best friend. It wasn’t even ten minutes later that he was sneaking out of the castle the same way he had the night before.

⤟☾☽⤠

It turned out to be a lot harder to find a courtesan in the lower town than he thought. He’d been looking all day, and in his frustration, he stopped outside a building to kick the ground, specifically a rock. It hit the brick wall with a smack and his eyes followed, and then he realized what an idiot he was.

He was standing in front of the brothel. The brothel. The one place he could be guaranteed to find a courtesan. 

Wooyoung opened the door and poked his head inside hesitantly. There were nude women laid out within the main room, some accompanied by men. He couldn’t see the male he’d met the night before in the immediate area, so he found himself stepping fully inside. 

Before he could get too far inside, a man who looked not much older than himself walked around the corner. He was honestly a little bird like in his features, but he wasn’t unattractive. He made it work for himself. “Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for someone.” He cringed at his own response, only realizing how redundant it sounded once it left his lips. Still, the man smiled at him politely.

“We have plenty of options. Do you have any preferences?” 

“That’s not what I meant. I’m looking for someone I met outside of here.”

“And… this person works here?” the man questioned. 

“I think so.”

“Do you know their name?” Wooyoung’s cheeks burned as he shook his head. “Okay. A general description might help.”

“He has blonde hair. His eyes are grey and kind of blue at the same time.” As a last thought, he added, “He’s Fae.” 

Recognition lit up the man’s face as soon as the last detail was said. “I know just who you’re looking for. Sit tight.” Wooyoung nodded as he walked away and turned to look at the wall behind him instead of the women scattered around.

“Are you stalking me now?” 

He turned back around at the voice and was met with the same male as the night before. “No. I’m not. This is actually the last place I came to find you.” 

“But you were trying.” He looked about half a second away from turning back around and leaving him there. 

“Not to stalk you,” he said, trying to do some damage control. “So we can talk. I need to talk to you.”

The male sighed before turning to go up a set of stairs. “Okay.” Wooyoung followed him up, then down a hallway and through a door. After the male had closed it behind them, he sat down on the bed. He was followed by the male.

“Let’s talk, then.”

“What’s your name?”

It was a moment before he answered. “San.”

The name sounded familiar to him, but he couldn’t remember where he’d heard it before. He didn’t let it put him off for too long. “I don’t want you to think I’m like my father, San.” Wooyoung waited a moment to see if San had anything to say, but he said nothing. “I don’t hate the Fae like he does, and I want to make this city the way it used to be. Like you see in the paintings.”

After a moment, San’s face softened. “That would be nice.”

“I know it would. That’s my plan for when I become king. To fix the city. Make the people equal.” 

“My people don’t want to be equal, though. We aren’t from here. We want to be able to go home.” 

“I’m sure you do, and I’m sorry that I can’t help you with that.”

San’s brows drew together. “But you can. You can give the land back.”

That was easier said than done. Even if he had the power to do so right now, there wasn’t even a Fae royal family to return the land to anymore. The last he’d heard, the prince was dead along with the rest of them. “I can try. But I can’t promise anything.”

“Promise to try.”

San sounded like he was on the brink of begging. He couldn’t deny him at least the one promise. “I promise.”

He smiled at Wooyoung for the first time since the night before. It warmed his heart to see his dimples again, and when his smile faded into a small grin, so did they. “So, you’re here, in my bedroom where I work out of. What is it like in your perspective, your highness?” 

And then Wooyoung realized exactly where he was sitting. He was in a brothel, sitting on a bed that the person beside him had bedded who knows how many people. He straightened his back, and his cheeks must have flushed, because San was laughing at him now. 

“Have you never been with somebody before?”

It was a joke. Wooyoung knew it was a joke, it was obvious. But his face burned even more, and upon noticing, San stopped laughing and sat up.

“Have you really never been with someone before?”

His head hung in shame, and San’s thigh pressed against his. Fingers hooked under his chin and lifted his head, and San was no longer laughing or smiling. “Do you want to?” 

“Want to what?” 

“Do you want to lay with someone?” 

Wooyoung refused to make eye contact with him while he thought about his answer. Did he want to lose his virginity to San? He was certainly attractive, and not someone he wouldn’t mind being intimate with. He seemed sweet enough, even with the slight attitude problem. He looked away from the wall over San’s shoulder and to his eyes, and he nodded.

Soft lips attached to his throat and deft fingers were already untying the strings at the top of his shirt. San seemed to sense the slight discomfort coming from him, as he was soon scooting even closer to him and placing a hand on his cheek.

“You can tell me to stop and I will,” San reassured him. “We could forget this happened.”

Oh, but Wooyoung had come so far already. He could only shake his head, a moment too late for it to be convincing.

“I need words, pretty.”

“I don’t want to stop,” Wooyoung breathed out.

And then San’s hands moved into his hair, gently pulling him closer and his lips were attaching to his throat again.

And that’s when he realized he wasn’t responding, feeling tension beginning at San’s frame and ending where his lips met Wooyoung’s neck. His own hands finally found a place at San’s waist and he was met with an unfairly slim stature.

When one of San’s hands found its way under Wooyoung’s shirt, he couldn't help the gasp that slipped out. It was so hard not to press into the touch, so he let himself shiver instead. Wooyoung groaned quietly, pressing into him as much as possible, arms dropping and trying to get the hem of San’s shirt up and over his head.

And then San’s hands were all over him, roaming the expanse of honey skin until his nails were digging hard enough to leave half moon shapes behind. There was a sigh so soft that came from San that made him whimper, and the male’s hands danced on his stomach before they tugged at the hem of his shirt, and then he was pulling away to tug it off, mouth following right after to drag wet kisses down Wooyoung’s neck, tongue laving across the skin before biting down on his collarbone.

One moment Wooyoung’s feet were hanging off the edge of the bed and the next he was being pulled up and maneuvered to lie on his back on the bed. The gentleness with which he handled on the mattress melted his heart. He would have let himself believe it meant something had they not met only a day ago. The rest of their clothes were quickly discarded and Wooyoung didn’t even have the time to admire the body in front of him before it leaned over him, jar of oil in hand (when did he have the time to grab that?).

A hand tapping his hip had Wooyoung turning over onto his hands and knees. He settled into position, wiggling his hips to get more comfortable and his back arched deep enough that there was a filthy groan that came from behind him.

That’s when he realized he looked good.

It didn’t take long before San’s fucking him with two of his fingers, careful to always be sure Wooyoung was comfortable. A third finger pressed at his entrance and he spread his legs even further, lifting his hips just right and a whimper slipped out of him when the fingers brushed against a spot that had him seeing stars.

There was a familiar twinge at the base of his spine, sweat beading at his skin as he opened up greedily, happy with being filled. The sound that came out of him was nothing compared to the slick sounds coming from behind him. San’s clean hand rested on the swell of Wooyoung’s ass, keeping him still. His blunt nails dug into his skin hard enough that he knew red half moons would be left behind before the end of the night, and he had to muffle himself at the belated realization that he liked marks being left on him.

And then both hands were leaving him, the empty feeling making him whine. Wooyoung could hear San slicking himself up with the oil, a hand coming to guide him onto his back. Then San was leaning over him, lips dragging up his stomach. Before he could think of anything to say that was more coherent than “Fuck me already”, San had already buried himself inside Wooyoung.

His limbs felt like they were melting into the bed and his brain was hazy enough that the feeling of San’s sharp hip bones meeting the back of his ass barely registered, too focused on how full he felt. There was a faint buzzing in his ears, the dull thud of his heartbeat ringing too loudly for him to hear the smack of San’s hips against him.

“Fuck,” San’s groan was harsh when he bottomed out, sliding in rougher than he had been the entire night.

The only reason Wooyoung could tell that San was equally affected as him wasn’t in the way his breathing went heavy, but in the way his thighs noticeably shook against Wooyoung’s, quivering with the strain of not fucking Wooyoung into the mattress before he’d fully adjusted.

A choked moan bursted out of him when San’s hand reached down and wrapped around his neglected cock.

His nails pressed into his palms as San stroked while pushing in slow enough that he was forced to feel the way the courtesan’s cock dragged along his walls, pressing so deep he thought he could feel it in his stomach.

“Fuck, oh God,” Wooyoung whimpered, writhing as he pushed his ass back to fuck himself, body thrumming because he was so sensitive he could feel it start in his toes and end with a knot in his stomach that told him he would absolutely burst at any second. “Please, right there - oh fuckfuckfuck-”

That was more than enough to have San grind once, twice, before a loud, rough groan slipped past his teeth when he sank back in, steady and unhurried into the tight, slick heat that Wooyoung was providing him. He wasn’t slow but he wasn’t fast either, and Wooyoung couldn’t contain the guttural moan that left him when San’s cock dragged against his walls in a burn so delicious he could’ve cried in relief.

He didn’t know how the pained groan made its way out of his throat when San angled his hips just right, the sound verging on a wail that was just downright obscene. And then San shifted again, precise in a way that had him whimpering, fighting down sobs, squirming as his hips wiggled to find a release.

“Please, I can’t - I need to-” he begged, the words coming out in a cracked whine as San’s lips mouthed over his shoulder, biting down hard enough that Wooyoung knew there would be a mark there and the possessiveness of the action had him biting back another sob.

He could barely hear himself or the sound of San’s hips smacking into his ass over the sound of the headboard crashing into the wall or the creaking of the bed because he was too far gone, couldn’t think, couldn’t even breathe properly. He didn’t really know what to focus on because San was fucking into him, searching for his own release and he was going crazy because he liked it.

He could vaguely feel how wet his cheeks had become and the line of drool that made its way down his chin, and San’s pace faltered for a moment at the sight. Wooyoung couldn’t even keep his eyes open properly, because San’s fucked him silly at this point, every push punching a small and weak moan out of his lungs.

It was suddenly like San was everywhere - all over him and inside him, rough hands turning him inside out, his stomach twisting into knots, vision going blurry and he knew his orgasm was right there, just a little bit out of reach. He couldn’t even make proper sounds anymore, air punched out of his throat the harder San went, pushing in to the hilt, frantic and rough and hard.

His muscles were tightening as his limbs locked up, toes curling at the impending orgasm, barely managing to keep himself from thrashing at how hard he was getting railed, body taut, ready to snap.

“Come,” San murmured, and then Wooyoung was gone.

He barely even registered it when San’s head dropped down, sinking his teeth into his shoulder, and he could barely feel anything other than the way it crashed into him, body quivering.

And then San’s hips slammed into him once, twice, before he stills with a gritted curse, voice low and grating under his breath, cock twitching before coming as well, and Wooyoung was reeling at the fact that San was filling him up.

⤟☾☽⤠

Wooyoung wasn't sure how being with a courtesan worked, but cuddling was something he was positive didn’t usually happen. Once San had cleaned both of them up, he had laid Wooyoung down and clung onto him. He wasn’t sure how long it had been, but he was beginning to drift off.

San’s head lifted up, making Wooyoung open his eyes to look back at him. “Was that really your first time?” He sighed and nodded, prepared to be mocked. San only continued to look at him with those mesmerizing eyes. “Was it everything you ever dreamed it would be?”

Wooyoung shook his head and before San’s disappointed look deepened he gave the male a smile. “It was better.”

Warmth bloomed in his chest at the sight of his dimples and his eyes forming little crescents. The courtesan shifted, leaning over him to place his chin on Wooyoung’s chest. They just laid like that for a while. The sun had long since gone down, and Wooyoung was honestly in no real hurry to return to the castle.

San hummed, sitting up. “Well, Wooyoung, let me walk you home.”

Wooyoung shook his head again. “I’m not sure they’d let you in the castle. And besides, I snuck out so I can’t get caught sneaking back.” As he stood to collect his clothing, San’s eyes raked up and down his body.

Wooyoung dressed himself, maybe a little too quickly. He wanted to spend the rest of his nights with the Fae male if it meant he could continue to feel that toe curling pleasure he could still feel thrumming in his veins.

“At least let me walk you down to the door,” San was standing, pulling the blanket off the bed and wrapping it around his shoulders. Wooyoung nodded, not finding it in himself to deny that offer.  
As San opened the door and the chilly breeze hit them, Wooyoung turned to him. “How much money do I owe you?”

San’s face dropped for a moment, as if he had forgotten. The expression was quickly wiped off by a mischievous grin. “Don’t worry about it. It’s on me this time. But next time, you have to pay.”  
The implication of a next time had a blush rising to Wooyoung’s cheeks and spreading to his very normal round ears that he was suddenly wishing weren’t so ordinary, and he found himself simply nodding.

San leaned forward, his lips pressing gently against Wooyoung’s cheek and slowly moving around to his lips. It was only a light press, barely even there, and it was gone before he even had time to register that it was, in fact, there.

“Goodnight, Wooyoung. And thank you again for yesterday, and sorry for yesterday too.”

“Goodnight.”

Wooyoung turned away, feeling eyes on him until he rounded the corner down the street. He had assumed cuddles weren’t standard behavior for a courtesan and their clients, but now he was positive it might be more common than kissing them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re saying that you’re not Choi San?” 
> 
> “No…” 
> 
> “Then what?”
> 
> San stuttered, stumbled over his words, but ultimately he came up with nothing. Wooyoung sighed. “Listen. I have a plan. I thought about this all night, and I want us to work together.” 
> 
> “What for?”
> 
> “To overthrow my father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I’ve decided to open up my Instagram account to my readers and allow you guys to follow me! If you’re ever interested in seeing what I look like, getting an insight to my, honestly, pretty boring personal life, or sending in feedback or ideas and requests for works, you can find me @imaelinnnn
> 
> I really look forward to interacting with you all more!

When Wooyoung awoke, it wasn’t to the usual shake of his shoulder and the blinding sunlight after his curtains had been unceremoniously flung open. No, he woke up to a crash and a clatter that had him bolting upright. 

He found Yeosang knelt on the floor, picking up grapes and little cubes of cheese from his dropped breakfast tray. He got up to help and Yeosang noticed the movement. “No, your highness, it’s fine. I can get it,” he said, and Wooyoung paused.

“‘Your highness’? You never call me that seriously.” He continued his path and knelt beside him, and noticed his hands were shaking. He tried to grab one to steady it, only to have it snatched away. “Let me help, Yeosang.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ve got it.”

“Yeosang, your hands are shaking. What’s wrong?” 

Yeosang shook his head and continued to pick up the food. With a sigh, Wooyoung finally snatched one of his hands and what he found horrified him. 

Two of the nails on the hand he had in his grasp had been completely removed, as well as three on the other hand. Yeosang pulled his hand back, finished picking up the scattered grapes, and carried the tray to Wooyoung’s dresser, and then he realized that wasn’t even the worst of it. Where there would usually be delicate points poking out from underneath Yeosang’s hair, there was now nothing but a bit of caked blood. It took a moment for his brain to catch up, and he followed after him. 

“What the hell happened?” 

“Nothing, it’s fine-”

“It’s not fine. Who did this to you?” 

Yeosang stood still, completely unmoving to the point Wooyoung worried he shut down as he moved golden locks away. His ears, the telltale signs of his Fae heritage, had been cropped and rounded out, leaving him looking utterly human. The skin surrounding the area was bruised black and blue, probably from the struggle or the sheer force it took to mutilate him. It was a long moment before he realized there were tears streaking down Yeosang’s face. “I’m so sorry. He didn’t believe me this time, and I tried to keep from telling him but it hurt so much and-”

“My father did this?” 

Yeosang didn’t nod or shake his head in response, but it was a rhetorical question anyway. Wooyoung knew who he meant. He rubbed his shoulders until he calmed down and wiped the tear tracks from his cheeks. 

“I tried to bring you breakfast because he wants to have breakfast with you so you wouldn’t have to go,” he sniffled before moving to the closet to pick out clothes. Wooyoung followed and plucked them out of his hands.

“No. I’ll go. I want to talk to him now, anyway.”

He began to make his own bed, and Yeosang’s hands reached out to take the blanket from him. He gently swatted them away. “I can get it. Take the day off.”

“I’m fine, let me-”

“Take the day off, Yeosang. I’m not asking. I can take care of myself for a day.”

It took a moment, but Yeosang nodded. He bowed before leaving the room, which he never usually did, and left Wooyoung alone to think about what exactly he was going to say to his father, and how he was planning on keeping his food down while he tried to say it.

⤟☾☽⤠

The banquet hall was silent. It was never usually so quiet, at least the sound of servants’ footsteps or the scrape of a fork on the porcelain plates. But there was no sound. The servants stood off to the side, jugs of water in hand should either of them need a refill, and Wooyoung’s fork lay untouched. His father didn’t seem to have the aversion to the meal that he did, fruit and cheese being popped into his mouth every few seconds.

The tension in the air was so thick it could have been cut with a butter knife. Neither of them had said a word to each other. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, his father looked up from the other end of the table and seemed as if he’d only just remembered Wooyoung was there at all. “You haven’t touched your breakfast,” he commented. 

“I’m not hungry.”

The king leaned back in his chair, arms rested on either side of him leisurely. He raised a brow at Wooyoung’s tone. “Do you have something you’d like to say to me?”

It was the invitation he needed. “Why would you do something like that to my servant?” A grape was plucked from the plate before him and popped into his father’s mouth. “Are you just not going to answer me?”

“He was lying, so I got the truth out of him,” he stated as if he were observing the weather. 

“You didn’t have to torture him.” Wooyoung could feel anger rising in him, fought as hard as he could to keep it from bubbling over and simply blowing up on the king. “He’s my servant to punish if he’s done something wrong, not yours. I was the one who asked him to do that.”

“It’s good to see you’re finally taking responsibility for something, Wooyoung.” He looked genuinely proud for a moment before his face returned to a neutral expression. “It’s a shame it’s only for a servant, but good nonetheless. But, if he isn’t going to answer me truthfully, he can’t be allowed to walk away with a slap on the wrist. If one is allowed that privilege, the rest will assume they are as well.”

“So you cut off one of the things that make him so special?” Wooyoung knew he wasn’t even trying to hide his aghast expression, knew it wasn’t proper to appear that way in front of the king, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “Those ears are more than just decoration. They’re part of his heritage, and you just took that away from him.”

“As long as he lives under my roof, he will pass for human.”

“That’s awful.”

His blatant disagreement earned him a scrutinizing look. They sat there, staring at each other in some kind of assertion of dominance, and Wooyoung wasn’t willing to back down. His father straightened in his chair, food now abandoned in front of him. “You seem to have a lot of opinions to share today.”

“I always have opinions. You just never want to hear them.”

A small smile of amusement quirked at the corners of his lips. “Share them, then. Go ahead.”

“I think it’s time to set the Fae free and return their homeland to them.”

The king leaned forward and rested his hands on the table, folding them together. “There’s nothing stopping them from inhabiting the area again under our rule. Even so, there’s nobody to return land to. The royal family was completely snuffed out the day Choi San was pronounced dead along with the rest of them.”

The name Choi San had his brain conjuring images of the sinful male that had been draped over him not even half a day ago. He connected the dots that seemed to line up perfectly rather quickly. “So why don’t you announce that?”

“There’s no reason to.”

“I think there’s plenty reason to.”

“And that’s your opinion,” his father said, leaning back in his seat again and resuming his meal. With his free hand, he pointed behind himself to the throne. “But as long as I sit on that throne, my decisions are final and you will respect that.”

“Fine.” 

“Have you finished throwing a tantrum over a servant now?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You’re not to help or allow him to repair them in any way.” Wooyoung didn’t answer, as he couldn’t promise that. He could almost guarantee he would find a way to help his best friend regain some of his lost heritage. “If you’re not planning on eating, you’re dismissed.” 

He stood from his seat and turned to the doors. He passed the knights on either side of them, put his hand on the handle before he was stopped from pushing down. “Wooyoung.” He refused to turn around, but he stilled. 

“What?” 

“If you leave this castle unsupervised again, it’ll be your whore in the brothel’s ears next.”

Wooyoung left the banquet hall without another word.

⤟☾☽⤠

“Where are you going?”

Wooyoung looked up and over his shoulder from where he was relacing his boots. He hadn’t even noticed Yeosang come in. He was staring at him with a brow lifted questioningly. Wooyoung just brought his attention back to his boots. “I was about to come looking for you.”

“Why?” 

“You’re coming with me. To go talk to San.”

“You’re not allowed to leave anymore.” 

Wooyoung tied off the laces on his boot and straightened his back. “I need supervision to leave. He didn’t say anything about who can watch me.” 

Yeosang’s arms had crossed over his chest. The look on his face could only be described as condescending. “I doubt I’ll be considered a good enough choice.” 

“But you’ll stay with me, so I know it’ll be fine.” Even with all his attitude and hardships, Wooyoung knew Yeosang was loyal to a fault. He sighed, not convinced yet. “I think what I have to say to San, you’ll want to hear, too.”

“If you get caught, it won’t be you that winds up strapped in a chair having nails or teeth pulled out. It’ll be me. The less I know, the better.”

“I know that, but I don’t plan on letting that happen anymore.” Yeosang chewed his lip nervously. His eyes were darting around the room as he thought. “I need you to come with me. Please.” 

After a moment of hesitation, his eyes finally met Wooyoung’s again. “I’ll come with you, but I’m not going inside.” 

“Okay. That’s fine.” It wasn’t the answer he was hoping for, but he would respect the reason he was so apprehensive. After the last time, he wouldn’t want to know more than he had to, either. 

Twenty minutes later, he was walking into the brothel as Yeosang sat down on the bench outside the door. Wooyoung had given him his pair of leather gloves to cover his mangled and bruised fingers, and he kept shaking his head to keep his hair positioned over his ears. Just like the last time, even in the still early morning, it was already busy. The same man as before greeted him and Wooyoung came to the conclusion he must be the owner. 

“Hello, again. I take it you enjoyed San’s services?” The man smiled, showing off his straight teeth. Wooyoung’s face heated up at his question.

“Yes.” There was no point in lying. This man probably asked that question to plenty of people every day. “I would like to see him again.” 

The man hummed quietly. “He should be available. He doesn’t usually take clients until the evenings, though.” 

“Am I allowed to just talk to him?” 

“That’s up to him. I can go ask for you?” Wooyoung nodded and the man disappeared up the stairs. It wasn’t long before he returned and gave him the okay to go up. He said his thanks, climbed up the stairs, and trusted his memory to take him to the room he’d been in before. It seemed like the owner had left the door cracked for him, and he peered inside before stepping in and closing the door behind himself.

San was sprawled out on the bed, on arm lifted and tracing some invisible shape on the ceiling. He looked over when the door clicked and sat up. “I had a feeling you might come back.”

“Did you really?”

A sly smirk spread across his face. “You seemed like you enjoyed yourself.”

“Well,” he cleared his throat. “I need to talk to you.” 

In an instant, San’s expression changed. He seemed to be very perceptive to emotions. “Is there something wrong?”

That was one way to put it. Wooyoung nodded. “What happened?”

“My father decided to cut off the tips of my servant’s ears because he was covering for me to come here.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am.” 

“What the fuck?” San didn’t miss a single heartbeat, disgust pulling at his porcelain features. 

“After that, I told him I wanted him to give the Fae land back.” A small glimmer of hope ghosted across San’s entire body, not just his face. “He said that there’s nothing stopping the Fae from moving back, but there’s nobody to legally return it to because the royal line ended with Choi San, and he’s dead.” 

Wooyoung paused and watched the hope fade away. San’s eyes seemed to darken. “Did you know about this or is it new information to you?” he asked.

“No, I knew that everyone just assumed the prince was dead.” San, who had usually been so bold and upfront with his voice and opinions, now seemed like nothing but a meek shell of himself. 

“Well, he’s not. He’s right here in front of me, isn’t he?” His head began to shake, imperceptibly at first, then more and more sure of himself. “You’re saying that you’re not Choi San?” 

“No…” 

“Then what?”

San stuttered, stumbled over his words, but ultimately he came up with nothing. Wooyoung sighed. “Listen. I have a plan. I thought about this all night, and I want us to work together.” 

“What for?”

“To overthrow my father.”

San’s face went completely blank. His eyes dulled down, and Wooyoung wasn’t sure if he should be worried or elated. “We’ll need to find more people, of course,” he tried, hoping it would have some kind of effect on San. It did, but not the one he was hoping for.

“Wooyoung,” he started. “Anyone who thinks I’m still alive hates me.”

“Why?” 

“They think I abandoned them.”

“Did you?” 

San shook his head. “I was a kid. I didn’t understand what was happening. I should be dead, but Seonghwa pulled me out of the river he found me in.” Wooyoung assumed that must have been the name of the owner downstairs, then. 

“You should step up, then.” He looked as if he wasn’t sure of Wooyoung’s assurance, like he believed it was just a lie to get him to expose himself for execution. “They can’t blame a little kid for not knowing what to do. You did what you had to to survive.” Still, San had that same weary look on his face.

With a sigh, Wooyoung walked to the window and flung it open. He looked down into the muddy street and found that the room was placed almost directly over the door to the brothel. It allowed him to look down at Yeosang, still sitting right where he’d left him on the bench, looking more and more uncomfortable with being alone by the second. Wooyoung turned and waved his hand, gesturing for San to come join him. 

With his brows drawn together and a little crease in the middle of his forehead, he rose from the bed and came to stand beside him. “Look at how miserable your people are,” he said with a little point. “Look at Yeosang. Look at everyone walking by this building. They’re begging, starved, dying.”

This time, his words had the effect he wanted them to. Even if it was only to make him shut up, San’s shoulders squaring. “What do you need me to do?”

“I need you to tell anyone you trust the truth, first. Who you really are, and that I told you to.” San nodded. “I think that’s all we can do for now. I need to get some other things done before anything else.”

San stepped away from the window and turned to the door, and Wooyoung followed. As they descended the stairs, he placed a hand on the small of Wooyoung’s back. “There’s a doctor a little bit down the street. He’s Fae. He might be able to help your friend.”

Wooyoung’s heart warmed. Nobody else had ever called Yeosang his friend, only his servant. He smiled as they reached the door, his hand on the handle and he pushed it open. He could see Seonghwa watching them with a look he could only call fond from over San’s shoulder. “Thank you. For everything.”

Instead of smiling or saying anything, like he was used to when he thanked people, San leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of Wooyoung’s mouth. He tried not to let his shock show, but the flush on his cheeks and ears betrayed him as he cleared his throat and turned away to rejoin Yeosang.

He tried to ignore the arch of Yeosang’s brow, and the smile that spread across Seonghwa’s pretty face when he walked away.

⤟☾☽⤠

Yeosang flopped down across from Wooyoung with a huff, then snatched a slice of orange from his breakfast plate. Wooyoung whined at him indignantly, but he didn’t pull the platter away from him to keep him from taking more. He knew there were only select times the servants got to eat, and it was often just the leftover scraps from what the royals ate.

He’d forced Yeosang to sleep in his room for the night. He’d even offered to let him have the bed, but he took the couch without complaining. He still knew nothing about what he and San had talked about, and Wooyoung honestly didn’t think he even really realized exactly who San was. It was as he said, the less he knew, the better off he was.

“I didn’t think courtesans kissed their customers goodbye,” Yeosang mused, popping a cubed piece of melon in his mouth. Wooyoung stared at him blankly for a moment.

“That’s not a Fae thing?” 

Yeosang’s nose scrunched up in disgust. “Have I ever kissed you before?” 

“No…” 

“Then there’s your answer.” He sifted through the fruit between them, looking for another piece up to his standards.

“That was nice of him, then,” Wooyoung said, and Yeosang rolled his eyes in response. When he glanced back up, he fixed Wooyoung with a judgmental glare.

“Right. Nice. That’s what he did that for.”

Just as Wooyoung opened his mouth to give a snarky retort, the warning bells in the citadel began to ring. He looked around the room in a panic as Yeosang rose from his seat and jogged over to the window to look down into the square of the upper town spread out far below them. “It looks like something happened in the square.”

Instead of joining him, Wooyoung beelined for the door. “We need to go check it out.” He opened the door to servants and guards alike dashing through the hallways in a panic, and even over the noise, he could practically hear Yeosang’s neck snap with the force he whipped his head around with. “We do?” 

“Yes. I’m not going to sit back and relax like the King.”

“I’m sure the guards can handle it,” Yeosang protested, and Wooyoung just exited the room and speed walked down the hall. It wasn’t long before he heard a set of footsteps echoing his own all the way down to the square.

A crowd had gathered around to get a look at what was happening. Some gawked at him, and some whispered as he passed, not used to seeing the crown prince out in the open and mostly unguarded. He pushed past the crowd, heard Yeosang apologizing profusely on his behalf behind him, and eventually he made it to the line of guards. 

“Your Highness, don’t come any closer-”

Wooyoung didn’t allow the guard to say any more, shouldered past him and was met with the most gruesome sight he’d ever had the displeasure of witnessing. 

Every single night guard of the upper town had been slaughtered during the night and dragged into the square to form a perfect circle around the ornate fountain. They’d all been killed differently, some with their throats slit and others with blood pooling out around them through precise holes in their armor, right through the heart. The only thing each guard had completely in common was that their ears had been amputated and left on top of the bodies, right on their chests. 

Looking closer told Wooyoung that the murderer had used the guards’ blood to write on the white banners hung around the fountain. He couldn’t read it, though, as it was in the traditional Fae language, and that last little detail told him exactly who did it, or at the very least, who helped. 

He was dragged from his thoughts by a tug on his sleeve. He looked over to find Yeosang beside him, fingers digging into the cotton of his shirt in a way that had to be uncomfortable on his injured hands, and face completely drained of color. He looked like he was going to be sick any second. “What?” 

“Let’s let the royal guard handle this,” he mumbled, tugging his sleeve again, even more insistent. Wooyoung gave in and followed him away from the crowd, and once they’d emerged, Yeosang made a mad dash for the nearest building he could hide around. He could hear him emptying the contents of his stomach before he even caught up and knelt down to rub his back until it passed. When Yeosang finally sat back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, Wooyoung withdrew his hand. “Are you okay?” He nodded.

“Your father can’t figure out what that says,” he panted.

“Why? What does it say?”

“Choi San’s alive.” He could see in Yeosang’s eyes that he still hadn’t pieced everything together. 

“I know,” he admitted. Yeosang’s eyes went wide as saucers. “That’s why I wanted you to listen to what I had to say. I went to go talk to him, San. I figured it out when I had breakfast with my father.” 

Yeosang’s head began to shake, possibly against his will. “No. There’s no way he works in a brothel.” 

“He’s just trying to survive, like you are.”

A realization dawned on his face. “You told him about me.”

The accusatory tone in his voice had Wooyoung shrinking in on himself. “Yes…” 

“You’re father’s going to think I did this.”

Now it was his turn to shake his head. “No,” he said, firmly. He refused to let anything else happen to his best friend, his only friend. “He’s not.” 

“You can’t guarantee that-”

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” His voice was more sure than even he’d planned, and he could see his own brief moment of shock reflected in Yeosang’s eyes. Eventually, he nodded. “Now, you can either come with me and stay somewhere away from the castle, or you can go back and risk your life.”

Yeosang blinked twice. “What?” 

“Do you want to stay alive or not?” 

“I do, I just don’t understand what you’re saying.” 

“I’m trying to save you. That’s all that matters.” Yeosang nodded again, and Wooyoung stood up to lead him down to the lower town. He sifted through his brain the entire time, trying to remember what direction San had told him the Fae doctor was, how far down he’d said his place of work was. Every building looked the same here, and the faded signs didn’t help. 

Finally, the prominent smell of tonics and alcohol hit Wooyoung’s nose and he knew he was in the right place. Yeosang stopped obediently by his side, observing the building before them. “What is this?” 

“San told me there’s a doctor here who might be able to help you.” 

Not for the first time that day, Yeosang’s head whipped to him at top speed. He gawked for a moment, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, before it closed and he disregarded words in favor of flinging his arms around Wooyoung’s neck. He could feel his body shaking with excitement as he wrapped his own arms around him. 

When Yeosang moved away, he had what was possibly the biggest smile Wooyoung had ever seen adorn his statuesque face. It faltered a bit when he noticed he didn’t seem to be quite as excited. “What?”

“Yeosang, I mean it when I say you have to stay away. Don’t come back to the castle. Not until I’m king and it’s safe for you.”

Although hesitantly, Yeosang nodded, and with one final hug, Wooyoung said goodbye to his best friend.

⤟☾☽⤠

Wooyoung really hated being barged in on, but he supposed it was only fair after all the years he’d been the one doing the barging in.

His father walked through the door to his room, two guards on either side of him that remained outside as the door slipped closed. He strolled in like he owned the room, and Wooyoung stared at him from where he was seated at his desk, a roll of parchment in front of him that he’d been doodling on. 

“My guards tell me you were down in the square yesterday.”

“What about it?” 

“I thought I said you weren’t to be unsupervised.”

“I wasn’t unsupervised.” He went back to his doodle, finding it had become a vague representation of a constellation at some point. 

“Ah, yes,” his father mused. “Your servant. The same servant that none of the other staff have seen since yesterday.” 

And there it was. The real reason his father had come to him. He never wanted to sit and talk about the weather, or just scold him for doing nothing wrong. “Is there a problem with that?”

The king picked up a small jewelry box decorated with sapphires, an old gift from his mother that he’d never had the heart to get rid of, and examined it. “I have enough reasons to believe he was involved with the incident yesterday. However, if you can vouch for him, then… He might be spared.”

“It wasn’t him. I had him sleep with me the night the guards were killed and I would’ve heard if he’d left at any point.” It wasn’t a lie. He did force Yeosang to sleep with him, only to keep him out of the reach of the guards roaming around the castle. “He’s only gone because I told him to go visit what family he has left.”

His father set the jewelry box down where he’d found it. “And that’s the truth?”

“Yes.” Wooyoung thought he might be able to have his peace and quiet back, but then his father wandered around his desk and stood behind him, and gripped his shoulders in his hands. 

“I think it’s time you take some responsibility for the kingdom. Starting tomorrow, I want you questioning every Fae in this city.”

“Why me?”

“You’re twenty-one. You’ve done nothing to really benefit the kingdom. It’s time to start.” He refrained from retorting that his father had also done nothing to really benefit the kingdom recently. 

“When do you want me to start?”

“The sooner, the better. I would let your servant know to wake you up, but,” he trailed off, the unspoken conclusion hanging in the air. Wooyoung no longer had a servant.

“I’ll be awake,” he gritted out. The hands on his shoulders tightened, almost in a mock massage. 

“Don’t embarrass yourself, Wooyoung. Find who did this. What you do and how well you do it reflects the entire kingdom, and influences our neighbors’ opinions.” A knot tightened in his gut, and he began to get the feeling the king hadn’t come into his private living quarters just to question him over where Yeosang was now. 

“Okay…” 

“Those opinions will matter when it comes to marriage.” With a pat to each shoulder, the hands released him and the freedom allowed Wooyoung to turn his head upwards to stare his father in the eyes. 

“Marriage?” 

“Marrying the right person will give us allies in places we need them most.”

Without a moment of hesitation, Wooyoung’s brain to mouth filter shut itself off. “I’m not allowed to choose, am I?”

A smile grew across the king’s face. It wasn’t the smile of a father who was proud of his son, but that of a king who was beginning to think his prince wasn’t completely useless. “And who would you pick if you were?”

Wooyoung could only think of one person. The one person Jinju needed as an ally the most at the moment, and the one person who was helping Wooyoung try to tear Jinju apart. “I don’t want to tell you.”

“There’s no judgment here.”

“I’m sure there would be.” He turned back to his parchment, but he didn’t lower his quil back to the surface. He just let his eyes bore into it, as if the gaze could burn holes through it and down to the desk. 

“Don’t worry. We’ll find you a suitable princess to put an heir in.”

Wooyoung suppressed the shudder that threatened to pulse through him at the vulgar comment. His father turned and left the room without waiting for him to respond. Once he was gone, it felt like he could breathe easier, like the air wasn’t as dense and suffocating. 

Wooyoung laid the quil down on the desk. He needed to work quicker if he was going to avoid a marriage he didn’t want to be roped into. Much quicker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is only the surface of the deep dive coming, I promise. 
> 
> I want to take a moment to thank my sister for helping me unfold this plot as it goes, on the off chance she's here and reading.
> 
> Updates will be on Wednesdays at around 10PM EST.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, and I look forward to your continued support.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! 
> 
> To some of my long time readers, this might look a little familiar. That would be because this chapter is almost exactly copy and pasted from, I believe, my first ever work on here. I've decided to do a different take on it, a lot less inspired by the Throne of Glass novel series. The original work still remains one of my favorites, but sometimes a little change is fun!
> 
> Updates will be every Wednesday around 10PM EST!
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and I look forward to your continued support.


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